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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29340693">Machinist's Machinations</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlEspresso/pseuds/OwlEspresso'>OwlEspresso</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff and Smut, Praise Kink, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Shameless Smut, Teasing, mention of breeding kink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:34:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,519</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29340693</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlEspresso/pseuds/OwlEspresso</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Your thighs squeezed and tightened inside of your grandiose dress, gaze snapping back down to earth as you sought your mischievous partner.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Stephanivien de Haillenarte/Warrior of Light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Machinist's Machinations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Can also be read on my tumblr: https://owlespresso.tumblr.com/</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Twice a year, during each solstice, the high clans of Ishgard held a ball of changing seasons. Being new to the civilization, you had yet to experience one fully. Stephanivien both waxed poetic to you about the glimmering atmosphere and fully admitted to the stuffiness of that came with the formality, but even he could not deny the fairytale-esque nature of such events. The ballroom opened wide. Paintings depicting legends of eld spanned across the domed ceiling, prompting you to crane your neck as you stared up in abject awe.</p><p>Perhaps you could have committed more of the stunning view to memory had the toy nestled between your legs not twitched and buzzed. Your thighs squeezed and tightened inside of your grandiose dress, gaze snapping back down to earth as you sought your mischievous partner. </p><p>“Keep your eyes ahead of you,” Stephanivien’s heavy palm pressed to your lower back. Amusement was all too obvious, primely displayed in the curl of his lips and the low set of his eyelids. “Lest you bump into Archombadin de Dzemael a second time.”</p><p>“The first was your fault,” you hissed under your breath, gently elbowing him as the two of you made your way into the gathering proper. The rich sound of the orchestra bounced off the rounded walls, filling the room with beautiful music. Nearly every one of your senses was accosted by the pure majesty of the scene… except for touch. The presence of the toy between your legs was painfully obvious to you. Your pussy walls clenched desperately around it, your stance stiff as you accompanied your lover into the incredible ballroom. </p><p>You have to pat yourself on the back for deciding not to wear heels to this occasion. If you had, you would be on the floor in mere moments with the stunted penguin steps you’re taking.</p><p>“That much I will concede,” Stephanivien replied, a glimmer of fondness in his gaze. His hand spanned across the small of your back, never once leaving your body lest he lose you in the crowd. You fancied yourself a woman who could take care of herself, but if you were to become separated from him whilst this goddamn thing was in between your legs, you would lose your mind. “My deepest apologies, love. Allow me to make it up to you.”</p><p>“Oh, you’ll be making it up to me plenty later,” you scoff at him with a small scowl, a pout turning the corners of your lips softly downwards. If he feels any semblance of sympathy he’ll have no problem with you shoving his face in place of the goddamned toy when you get him alone. </p><p>Simply accompanying him to the ball had been enough of a favor, but going along with his hare-brained sex play was another thing entirely. You feel unnaturally naked and exposed despite the lengthy dress you’ve picked out for tonight. It’s a stunning number that hovers just above the floor, the corset laced firmly yet not uncomfortably, supporting your bust without breathing your back. </p><p>Sharply dressed waiters and waitresses wove through the thinning crowds as the guests spread to different areas of the room, carrying platters of hors d’oeurvres and flutes of golden pink champagne.</p><p>You plucked one of the slender glasses as one passed by, giving the waiter a kind smile and a thankful nod. Goddess only knew you couldn’t make it through the night sober. You lifted it to your lips, wincing ever so slightly as the cool taste doused your tongue and slid down your throat, the alcohol melting into a slight, sanguine burn. </p><p>The vibration between your legs spiked at that very moment, causing you to gasp and splutter. Your grip on your glass tightened, the back of your throat itching as you worked the liquid down the correct pipe. </p><p>Several passerby jolted at your sudden fit, causing your cheeks to grow warm. </p><p>“I’m fine,” you assured them with a strained smile.</p><p>“Are you sure?” At your side, Stephanivien cooed. He looked to you tenderly, sympathetically. His lips curled into a concerned frown. He played the role of the caring spouse to a picture perfect level, from his dewey sweet tone of voice to the strikingly genuine expression he sported. The large hand on your back brought you close, leaving merely an ilm between you… but it also allowed you to see the mischievous glint in his eyes. The smug bastard was shameless, and the need to retaliate in some way gripped you so thoroughly that your jaw clenched.</p><p>“One-hundred percent,” you gritted out. One of your gloved hands perched on his upper arm, giving a squeeze. What could be taken as a reassuring squeeze soon turned into a vice-like grip that had him reeling in place, eyes widening as you held him tighter—a silent threat. His partner or not, you were still the Warrior of Light and you could still kick his ass six ways to Sunday. He paled considerably and nodded.</p><p>“...So glad to hear that, my dear. Shall we head closer to the dancefloor? I think I see my father entangled in deep conversation with count Fortemps,” he inquired, motioning in the direction of the aforementioned individuals with his shoulder. The sight of Edmont was a welcome one, but speaking to anyone whilst this damned toy is busy tormenting you sounded like a terrible idea. It was practically asking to be humiliated. </p><p>“And let you make me look a fool in front of my adoptive father and future father-in-law?” you inquire, making sure to sound as incredulous as possible. “I think not, Stephanivien!”</p><p> “I think it would help my father grow accustomed to the idea of you as my wife if he were to see you at one of our formal events.” Stephanivien coaxed, gently nudging you with his shoulder. “Taking part in Ishgardian tradition is a sure way to secure a stronger bond with him. And maybe it would help the both of you get along better. If I remember correctly, you described him as ‘stuck in his ways’?”</p><p>You gave an exasperated sigh, leaning into his side. As much as you hated to risk it, you had to admit Stephanivien was correct. There wasn’t anything his father could do to separate the two of you, but having his blessing would make the relationship easier. Ishgardians, despite the way their culture preached modesty, were unabashedly nosy when it came to their family members and said family members’ love lives.</p><p>Getting close to his father would make the process of courting seem less taboo. The man had already struggled with accepting you, a foreigner, as a proper bride for his son. If there was to be an official wedding in the coming days, having the current count’s approval was key.</p><p>“Alright,” you acquiesce (as though you could ever refuse him in the first place). Before he could take the initiative, you pointedly grasp his hand and lead him in the direction of the two. “Come along, then.” They chatter busily near one of the many buffet tables, both wearing relaxed expressions, a good sign at the very least. House Fortemps and Haillenarte have always been close, so you’ve been counting on Edmont putting in a good word for you.</p><p>Edmont greeted you with a wide, welcoming smile—the kind that made you feel like you belonged.</p><p>The conversation lasts no more than five minutes before the bastard subtly raises the intensity of the toy. You gasp mid-sentence, barely managing to cover your ass with a half-hearted excuse before you scurry towards the refreshment table, readying a slew of insults to sling Stephanivien’s way as soon as the two of you reach private quarters. </p><p>He follows you seamlessly. A few of the noble folk recognize and greet him, whilst others have certainly noticed your presence and make haste in your direction. It’s not everyday you make yourself available to Ishgard’s upper class (with the exception of the Fortemps), so the party’s other attendants are more than likely to interact with you whilst they can. The very idea of entertaining the uppity rich folk nearly sends a rickety shiver down your spine.</p><p>Still, you do your best to make a good impression. The steady buzz between your legs only climbs in severity and to your relief, Stephanivien steps in sooner rather than later. He must have noticed your growing fatigue. When he steps forward to brush away the enthusiastic trio of bouncy noblewomen who have done nothing but cling and fawn over you for the past fifteen minutes, he sends you a knowing and apologetic look.</p><p>“My deepest apologies, ladies, but I promised the Warrior a dance and I must deliver it to her. I’m sure you understand,” he says with a teasing smile. The women giggle as they bustle away, doubtlessly eager to gossip about the relationship between yourself and the Haillenarte heir.</p><p>The vibrant chandelier light catches on his blond locks. His head is absent of his trademark bandana and goggles, hair done in an elegant braid. </p><p>“Couldn’t have stepped in sooner?” you jibe at him a little bit, reaching up and tugging lightly on the aforementioned length of hair. He winches, but you hold no sympathy for him. He’s earned it, after the hell he’s put you through.</p><p>“Why? You seemed to be enjoying yourself… and if you’re going to be living here, then you’ll need to grow accustomed to the people,” he says, a palm pressing to the small of your back. He leads you seamlessly through the crowd, heading at last for the exit. You’ve only been here for a little more than an hour, but you’re already exhausted. You only have so much energy to spend talking to the rich and privileged before your brain starts giving out on itself. </p><p>“Regardless, I’m proud of you for lasting as long as you did,” he admits with a small laugh, “Even I grow weary of all the posturing and negotiating and gossiping. The nobility lacks most of the problems that plague the lower class, so they invent their own. Lady Dzemael has been fitting about her supposedly stolen croquettes as of late.”</p><p>“I suppose the impending threat of a dragon attack was second to that on her list of concerns,” you remark wryly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at the melodrama.</p><p>The ballroom, in all its incredible extravagance, disappears behind you. Stephanivien continues to idly banter with you, distracting you from both conversations held inside the ballroom and the toy incessantly teasing your pussy.</p><p>The orchestra becomes vague background noise as you head down the winding corridors, too focused on the lone task of returning to the Haillenarte manor to pay much attention to your surroundings. Your panties are near soaked through, cunt throbbing around the intrusive toy nestled inside.</p><p>You tense and rub your thighs together every chance you get. If he notices, he does not say anything.</p><p>-</p><p>Your little secret makes you feel giddy as you scurry down the hallowed halls of the mansion, pressed against him, as close as you can get. His hand is perched on the small of your back, his voice jovial as he shepherds you to his room with tantamount urgency. None of the staff dare interrupt your rushed journey, all likely knowing what you’re about to do. Normally you might muster up some sense of sheepishness, but you’re too hot and bothered now.</p><p>Only when the door of his room shuts behind you are you able to feel at ease. A weight lifts off your shoulders… as do the straps of your dress. </p><p>“Eager, are we?” Stephanivien inquires with no small amount of smugness, as though he isn’t also feverishly disrobing. He has an easier time of it. No zippers to fiddle with, no corsets to unlace. </p><p>“Again, that’s your fault,” you accuse with no venom in your voice, beginning to shimmy out of your formal attire. The dress, as lovely and comfortable as it is, has got to go… though you’ll most likely need his help to untie it.</p><p>“As humorous as it is to watch you wiggle around like a mermaid on land, I must offer you my humble assistance. It is the least I can do after all I have put you through, tonight,” he offers. When you glance back at him again, he’s disrobed down to his boxers. His suit and pants have been haphazardly tossed to the side of the room. He’s seated on the edge of the mattress, looking up to you with imploring eyes. His arms are open, elbows resting on his knees.</p><p>“It really is the very least you can do,” you remark. Even while sitting, he’s your same height, if not a tad taller. It’s enough to send a flush of heat to your already aching cunt. </p><p>You go quiet as you shimmy over to him. As soon as you’re able to, you rest your hands upon his shoulders and make a small jump to stand in between his legs, using him as a baseboard. The force of you pushing down on him makes him give a small ‘oof’, but he’s otherwise unbothered, too large and well-muscled to be bothered by someone of your size. </p><p>His countless hours at the workshop have served him well. There’s definition to his shoulders and arms, to his abdomen that might lead you to believe he’s been training on the side. Your absentminded gaze reaches it to the v of his hips before he grabs you by your own and abruptly turns you around.</p><p>The suddenness makes you squawk.</p><p>“Hush. You will have plenty of time to ogle me in just a few moments, I assure you,” Stephanivien says. His nimble fingers dance up and down the back of your dress, expertly untying and unlacing the top garment with practiced dexterity. Mere moments later, it crumples to the polished wooden floor at your feet.</p><p>Unabashedly, suddenly, he manhandles you to face him again. You prepare another teasing barb to throw his way, but the words fall from your tongue the moment you see his face. He looks to you with unspoken ardence, a worshipful admiration decidedly different from the way anyone else has seen you with. It quiets and humbles you, to the point where you don’t speak even as he hooks his thumbs underneath the sides of your panties.</p><p>“Utterly divine, my love,” he coos. He pulls you forward by your hips, gaze slowly traversing down your body. He starts at your chest, admiring the curve of your bust before reaching your stomach. It’s as though he’s trying to memorize every inch of you, leaving you feeling more exposed and overanalysed than ever… and that’s before he pauses as he reaches your sodden panties. His head ducks, his lips curled into a torrid smirk. His left hand releases your hip and slides across your thigh, long fingers reaching up to caress a single stripe down your still clothes cunt, gently jostling the toy.</p><p>The sudden movement inside your already oversensitive cunt makes you jump and gasp, fingers curling tight around his broad shoulders. The shock is instantly replaced with irritation borne of his insufferable teasing.</p><p>“Gods, just fuck me already,” you grumble, thoroughly vexed by his sluggish examination.</p><p>“Forgive me,” he beseeches, eyes glimmering with untold mischief. “I was so taken by your beauty that I lost myself for a moment. Will you indulge me for the final time tonight, my love?”</p><p>“Depends. You’re already on thin ice,” you reply, tilting your head to the side. The hand that teased your cunt navigates around your body, his palm settling over one of your cheeks. His long fingers span over it entirely, giving you a loving squeeze. Your eyes screw shut as you hold in a moan, your cheeks growing even hotter as you realize what he’s asking of you. </p><p>“As rapturous as you are from the front, I believe I can get a better grasp of the toy’s overall performance from the back? Are you feeling up to that, tonight?” The low buzzing in between your thighs is deriving you to the point of incoherence. In the midst of your frustration, you agree with a wordless nod.</p><p>“As long as you hurry up and fuck me already,” you try to put extra bite in your words, but any and all threat in your tone is dulled by your currently nude state. </p><p>“Splendid.” Those long fingers tap against your hip, and he gently urges you to the side. “On the bed, my dear. The sooner you get into position, the sooner I can give you what you want.”</p><p>You need no further encouragement to scramble atop the blankets, coming to rest upon your hands and knees, sopping cunt and ass presented for his use. A brief sequence of noises behind you, namely the sound of a drawer opening and shutting, let you know he’s suspiciously prepared for this. </p><p>“Lovely. You’re doing so well for me.” There’s jolly humor in his voice and it nearly makes you roll your eyes. He makes quick work of your panties, sliding them down your thighs until they rest in the crook of your knees. Slicked, chilled fingers lightly work their way to your bottom hole, your voice choking around a gasp as he teases it. The toy still buzzes eagerly between your legs, even the slightest bit of stimulation enough to make you push back into his touch. </p><p>“Fuck,” you curse, face pressed to the sheets as he works a single, nimble digit inside of you, working you open. The series of gentle thrusts in and out make you begin to melt, body desperate for any attention he’ll give it. You relax for him, you loosen, gasping and whining, melting into little more than a puddle beneath him. The slicked lubricant chills against your exposed skin, sending goosebumps sprawling over your legs. </p><p>You pay it no mind as you work a hand underneath you, beginning to tease your clit with practiced strokes. Your growing noises of pleasure pitch higher and higher… and then turn into grievous whines as he pulls his fingers away.</p><p>“Hush,” Stephanivien soothes, lips brushing the back of your neck. He adorns your unmarked flesh with kisses and nips, occasionally stopping to suck a deeper mark. “I’ll give you what you so desperately crave, I promise. Just be patient. Intricate processes like these require proper preparation.”</p><p>The hot press of his cock makes a sudden breath rattle harshly from your lungs as he nears your twitching hole. The tip presses gently to it, beginning a slow slide inside. His fingers are long and practiced, but his cock is decidedly girthier. You don’t realize you’re shaking until he begins to murmur sweet nothings to you, a warm hand stroking up and down your side in an attempt to soothe you. The sudden nerves settle gradually, every muscle relaxing around him as he pushes deeper, deeper until his pelvis presses firm against your ass. </p><p>“You are a wonder,” he says into your hair, his shaking voice betraying his rattled composure. Even the scion of an Ishgardian noble house cannot remain unflinching in the throes of pleasure. The thought somehow soothes you as he pulls back… and thrusts in again. The pace he sets is slow and measured, yet deep and thorough. It’s the kind of mind-melting measure that frustrates and defeats you, the kind that makes your fingers tremble on your clit as you struggle to cling to coherent thought. </p><p>The constant, unrelenting pressure he applies is enough to keep you pinned entirely to the sheets. </p><p>“You’re excellent,” he moans and growls his praise, voice muffled against your shoulder. His words are spaced between frantic, wet kisses. “Truly. Taking me so well after all you’ve been through, tonight. Can you cum for me, darling? I think you can. I know so.”</p><p>The raw satisfaction the praise pushes through your worn mind is somehow enough to undo the coil between your legs that’s been wound so tight. The constant teasing has had you dangling on the precipice from the very start, so it should be no surprise when you finally cum, howling your bliss into the sheets as your body jerks and writhes. The toy relentlessly vibrates through it, devastating your plush walls until you at last reach to wrench it out. </p><p>Your entire body shakes as he fucks you throughout, pushing you so far into bliss that you begin to squirm away. His fingers curl tight around your hips, pulling you tight to him. His rhythm falters and his words fail him. You only realize these tell-tale signs of his approaching orgasm moments before it crashes into him. His hips still as he spills inside you. His teeth find purchase on your shoulder as he bites, sucking a brutal mark onto the blank patch of skin.</p><p>The blankets pull and nearly tear as you grip them, shaking like a leaf in his grasp. The strength has been all but sapped from your body by the physical and emotional strain of the night. Who knew talking to so many of Ishgard’s most powerful people could exhaust you so much? In the stillness and clarity of your post-orgasm, you can’t help but feel immensely grateful that you’re not in that stuffy ballroom, anymore.</p><p>“Forgive me,” Stephanivien says against your shoulder. His soft lips press up against the spot he had just bitten, and his grip on you loosens. There will be bruises where he held you tomorrow, but you can’t find it in yourself to be upset about that. Knowing that proof of tonight will still linger beyond this encounter is satisfying in a strange and animal way. “I was too… ahem, drawn into the moment. I should not have been so brusque with you.”</p><p>“No, it’s alright.” Your voice is hoarse as you assure him. “It was good. Really nice.” You grasp for more sophisticated words, but your head throbs the moment you do.  </p><p>What you will have to do is see how obvious the hickies he left are going to be. As proud as you are to be involved with him, you can’t waltz into your workplace looking like you’ve just been near choked to death. Heavens could only imagine the way Tataru would tease and badger you for the dirty details. Not to mention Stephanivien’s father… though you’re quite sure he already knows the details of your relationship with his son. </p><p>Being the Warrior of Light has its perks, one of which being that not even the staunchly traditional nobility of Ishgard can take issue with you marrying one of their own. Not after all you’ve done for them.</p><p>“Ah. Full glad am I to hear that, my dear.” He raises from his close position, gently shifting you to lay on your back. The toy lays abandoned only a few ilms away, and you wince at the sight of it coated in your juices. He’ll be the one to clean that up, you decide. It’s the least he can do after all of tonight’s shenanigans. His little invention causes you more trouble than you surely deserved. He reaps what he sows, as far as you are concerned.</p><p>You allow yourself brief smugness, knowing he’ll be helpless to refuse. For as dominant as he can be, there’s very little he will deny you. Whilst you strive to not take advantage of that good nature, there are times where you think it’s only appropriate to seize what you’ve so painstakingly earned.</p><p>Perhaps you should take a shower, you muse to yourself, staring up at the ceiling. The warmth of the afterglow settles over your tired body. The day’s anxieties are done and over with, put behind you. There are no balls to dread attending, no high social interaction for you to worry about. Perhaps you should have something to drink, too. It wouldn’t do for you to go to bed dehydrated—</p><p>Something hard and hot presses ever so gently against the outer lips of your cunt, causing your gaze to snap downwards. Stephanivien at least has the good sense to look sheepish after his unabashed ravishing of you, his lips curled in a decidedly boyish smile. His cock, however, is not nearly as shy. </p><p>“What.” You say, doubtlessly looking as incredulous as you feel.</p><p>“I cannot help my hopeless attraction to you, my dear. I think you should know that by now,” he wheedles, batting his eyelashes. “You’re up for another round, aren’t you? The night is only so young, as are we, and we should enjoy ourselves while we have the chance—”</p><p>Your face warms as his gaze roves up and down your body, worshipful and lustful all at the same time. Whilst he rants about the finer details of your physical form and soul, those large palms and long fingers come to cup your hips, thumbs rolling slow circles into your cooling skin. Like this, both bared to each other, you’re hard pressed to say no. The simplest of touches sends another spark through you, your already overstimulated cunt throbbing. </p><p>He’s impossible to resist. Utterly, irritatingly impossible. </p><p>So, you make a show of throwing your head back and sighing, staring pointedly up at the ceiling.</p><p>“If we must,” you say, but the upturned curl to your lips betrays you.</p><p>“What would I ever do without you?” he says. Those clever hands have already drawn you closer, the tip of his girthy cock kissing your entrance. You’re already plenty slick from the toy’s… loving ministrations. He slides inside easily, yet slowly, still careful to give you time to properly adjust. The toy’s size pales in comparison to his, but the preparation and lubrication are more than enough. You keen as he presses close, hips canting in a desperate attempt for more of that blessed, sanguine contact. “So receptive, as well.” </p><p>Your back arches, your eyes flutter shut as your walls clench and loosen around him. He presses up against every special little spot, touches everywhere you want him. His very presence is toe-curling, mind-melting in a way you have trouble describing. </p><p>“With an attitude like that, we’ll put an heir in you yet.” he teases, voice lapsing into a playful little lilt. “Would you like that, my dear? Would you like to be bred and round with child?” His jesting tone of voice is at odds with the fire that gleams openly in his gaze. A million thoughts and possibilities seize you at once.</p><p>Your answer is lost in a jumbled gasp as he sets a faster, rougher pace. You are sent mindless into a sea of bliss, wave after wave knocking the breath and coherency out of you.</p><p>The very idea of his proposal, however, sends a very raw abet confusing wave of heat straight down to your cunt. The logical part of you halts completely at the suggestion, any rational thought shut down by the swift gyration of his hips. Your hands grip the sheets for dear life. Your walls clench around him. Your eyes squeeze shut. </p><p>This will be a long night.</p>
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